


greek tragedy (or the inability of moon taeil leaving when nakamoto yuta asks her to stay)

by thegreatmoon



Series: glitterbug [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Female Moon Taeil, Female Nakamoto Yuta, Moon Taeil-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-04-24 10:36:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19171549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatmoon/pseuds/thegreatmoon
Summary: “in our tragedy they both die.”“in their tragedy they both die after a happy night together. in our tragedy, we are flavoring our suffering.”;taeil is having a hard time not falling for her romantic pairing in her next big play.





	greek tragedy (or the inability of moon taeil leaving when nakamoto yuta asks her to stay)

**Author's Note:**

> heeeey guys! this is my birthday gift to taeil, a fic inspired by a song in my favorite album! i hope i can turn this into a series with other taeil one shots inspired by the album! you should totally listen to the album [here](https://open.spotify.com/album/5eMwZy5R5qZB3v3lBumnFZ) idk if you want to listen to the song before or after reading, it's up to you ^^
> 
> moon taeil, you are my energy. i'm always thankful and i love you. but most of all you are my muse. i can never thank you enough for inspiring me day to day
> 
> xx  
> sol

“I’ll be falling off these Penrose steps’? Who even says a line of dialogue like that?” They weren’t completely alone when she made the question, in her aweless posture, sitting on the top of a chair in the audience as if she belonged there. They were never truly alone when the matter was their workspace. Inspiring and expiring for art was no lonely existence, as the people of live theater would find out as soon as they started working in the field. It was all about joint work, rehearsal and constant company. Sometimes it looked like a game of who would endure each other the longest without cracking. Even if they wanted to be far away from each other, the tiny space wouldn’t allow and you’d always find someone sneaking behind the curtains, having a smoke on the few windows available, changing on the dressing room or trying to run away from everybody, like Taeil would usually do in her earlier days. She had finally given up hiding. She was an actor after all. She could talk in a lower tone or put on a face anytime she wanted. Or so she thought.

In her voice it was perceived a cocky-borderline ironic tone, which few people would ever get a chance to hear. Being in the haunting presence of other members of the cast and crew moving around on stage was the only thing that kept Ten from slapping her friend with the script the actress smugly held on her hands.

“It’s ‘I’m tired of falling off these Penrose steps’ actually, Ilie, should I really remind you of your dialogue.” The screenwriter shot back, remaining calm while Taeil smiled conceitedly. It was good seeing her burst a bit of playful confidence once in a while and that was the only reason Ten allowed for that kind of behavior from any actor, especially in front of others from the crew.

She sometimes wondered how someone as beautiful and talented as Taeil could have so many scratches on their ego. Most actors weren’t like that, fighting for the spotlight, attention being something they craved and lived for. Taeil, with her shoulder length dark brown hair, honey skin and soft reassuring smile had the spotlight thrown directly at her. She would giggle, play with it a little bit, while everyone would watch in awe. But the minute lights were off she would shim away to her nearest safe harbor, being it her own lonely presence or the few friendships she had in the business. One of those being Ten herself.

“You know I know.” She replied, raising one eyebrow daringly. Ten would say it was obvious flirting, but she knew for a fact Taeil didn’t know how to flirt to the point she would call a hand on the knee skinship. Ten had asked her out in the most lesbian way possible and she started the date by saying “I’m such a fan of your work, I’m so happy you want to be friends”. The screenwriter had almost given up on sight, she was tired of beautiful straight actresses breaking her heart. However, besides gorgeous, Taeil had a charm that was very hard to put into words. Jungwoo had once said “she always seems open to listening”. The adjectives put to her character had always something to do with warmth. Taeil was the junction of a warm blanket in a beautiful comet shower evening, reassuring and rarely matched. Even Dongyoung, who was inadvertently allergic to beautiful people, claiming them to be spoiled, had a soft spot for the older actress. Ten also fell. Harder than she should. Soon, what she expected to turn into a solid one night stand or at least a good fuck in the women’s bathroom had turned into a blossoming friendship that included lots more skinship than the screenwriter could ever possibly imagine. Taeil was really a warm blanket in a comet shower, it evolved you in every way, physically and emotionally.

“I’d say you are facing the same situation as your character.” Ten claimed, finally taking her script from the hands of the playing actress. The other frowned, looking like a lost puppy.

“I don’t even know what Penrose steps are.”

Ten drifted her eyes to the stage and away from her friend on the stairs, faced with a hard choice. Taeil was getting on her nerves with her secretive cheekiness this morning, making comments here and there of script marks and such. It wasn’t even like they had been rehearsing this play for a month already. However, Ten had made the accusation without giving any previous thought to the inquiry.

She had thought of the expression ‘Penrose steps’ intensely while writing the play. It was the sort of line that would go unnoticed by a common theater goer, but stand out to someone who understood the reference or at least, to know where to look. Taeil was one of these people. In reality, she was the type of person who would know exactly where to look without anyone having to signal anything, but wouldn’t understand or say a thing until the scene was thoroughly explained to her.

The screenwriter sighed, she was getting too lost in the in between of keeping Taeil safe from the world or slapping it to her friend’s face. It was hard when she never knew what was truly going on. She was a second from just shrugging and letting it go, to allow Taeil to have her minutes annoying her, but she spotted a shining blonde mane, followed by big analyzing eyes and couldn’t keep quiet. The theater was indeed too small for such cast and crew. Eyes were everywhere. “It’s an impossible staircase that keeps circling itself.” The actress lost her playful smile, looking thoughtful. “What I mean is, you’re doing the same thing over and over again and you’re falling every time you do it but you do it again either way.”

Writing about people had made her especially skillful in analyzing people, but she guessed any artist of live stage could say the same. Taeil’s whole job was acting and understanding people and even though Ten could vouch and attest for her being the most skillful and versatile actress the stage has seen in over 50 year, she also knew how little Taeil knew of people. Either way, biting her lip, frowning her eyebrows, Taeil’s head seemed to be getting somewhere. Perhaps exactly to where Ten’s eyes traveled, to the curious eyes that looked at them through velvety curtains that, when caught Ten’s sight, shied away, along with her mane, to backstage, not allowing Taeil to turn around and merely look. They were always on each other’s eyesight, just never at the same time and it was starting to annoy Ten. Perhaps, her friend would finally understand what Penrose steps were with an on the flesh experience.

“Are you implying I should give up acting?”

To hear one of the most recently awarded actresses of last year due to her restage of Hamlet getting the idea she should rethink acting for it was a mistake, was one of the most excruciating experiences Ten had ever to endure. God had made her a screenwriter and not a preschool teacher for she didn’t have the time or patience to deal with ignorant children. Ten was, however, acting just like one, protecting her most fragile student from the hard truths of life instead of trying to make her understand things don’t go away by just ignoring them.

“I’m implying you should decide what to do with Yuta.” The name was finally spoken.The forbidden word. The only mentioned name when talking about the play and nothing else. It was a silent agreement. Years of being friends with Taeil, one would know how she treated mistakes or embarrassments, never talking or mentioning them. Even when they were centimeters away from her, loud whispering sweet nothings according to the script. Even when they were blonde, smiling, the embodiment of sunny and friendly. And even when it was clear for everyone in the cast and crew something was going on. Even with all those events, Taeil wouldn’t see. Or perhaps she wouldn’t want to see. In the end, Ten envied Taeil. She wished to be so willingly blind of others’ actions and behavior around herself. Instead, she could pinpoint every line of Taeil’s face that expressed disbelief and shock. “Oh, don’t look at me like that.”

Taeil leaned over Ten, her short hair falling off her shoulder. “Did she tell you anything?”

It was almost laughable how ironic that situation was. Ten had to keep that written down somewhere whenever she was hired to write a pathetic romantic comedy in which both leads were stupid. As in stupidly in love and stupidly dumb. She would have a hard time taking out all the angst though, with Taeil constantly breaking down due to insecurity and Yuta closing her social self to maintain Taeil stable. It had been like that for a month and the actress still thought someone had to say something to know what was going on.

“Her? You are the one practically yelling with your posture, tensing up every time she enters a room.”

Taeil finally gave in. “Her stage presence is unmatched.” She mumbled, running away from meeting Ten’s gaze. That was what Ten was afraid of happening. At the same time she was opening herself, it was at what cost to their friendship? Nonetheless, she had to do it. She had proven herself to Taeil thousands of times. This wouldn’t change them if handled correctly.

“Perhaps by you on her eyes.” She spoke softly, placing Taeil’s lose strain of hair behind her ear. She looked up in that indescribable grace everyone could surely see, but never understand. Her eyes were a bit teary. Jungwoo had once said Taeil wasn’t a crier when a little girl, but making herself cry so many times on stage had turned her into the sort that would get emotional easily. Ten knew she was holding back tears.

“I’m sure you are wrong.” The statement was brought with an abrupt move that ended their skinship and locked gaze. Taeil was now looking back, at the stage, where she should have looked a few minutes before. They were always out of time and sync, like a French comedy movie with amateur subtitles, never getting the punch lines and making it sound worse than it should be.

Ten should have let this go. She should have looked at her friend, who was the way she was not due to her beauty or charms, but for experiences she had endured in the past, and let her see for herself. She wasn’t sure, however, if that path was something she could allow Taeil to go through. She couldn’t see her friend suffer till she finally opened her eyes. There was something far more important than forbidden names and overall unspoken tense moments. The thing at stake could drive anyone to madness.

They had talked about this problem before, in previous productions. Taeil would always listen to Ten, agree with her, drop it right away. She would say “Ten is my North Star, she always brings me home.” It was impossible for Ten not to fall for her charms platonically.

“You are method acting.”

“Don’t.” Ten hadn’t even finished her sentence. Taeil turned her head from stage slowly. Her brown eyes shot Ten warnings, she wouldn’t know what for: “Don’t approach or I might tear up” or “Don’t approach or I might end you.”

They had been through that path before. It was already on the table. There were no take backs. They had been there before. It was less serious and just an experience. A brief one, for the sake of Ten’s sanity. She wouldn’t wish to go down on it again, especially considering their play was buzzed to be one of the most looked for in the season. Ten couldn’t see Taeil only being able to perform 8 times a week after being through enormous amount of emotional pain. She wouldn’t let that happen. They could write in the future she kept Taeil from being the brightest actress to ever live. Ten didn’t care. Great actresses ended up dead in a ditch surrounded with coke. Her Taeil wouldn’t.

“You know you are.” She insisted, trying to get ahold of her friend’s gaze.

“To even imply that I’m putting myself in this position just to get into the part… who do you think I am, Ten?”

“An actress.” Taeil didn’t answer. There was no possible answer. They knew their business. They knew each other. They knew what parts to play. They would continue doing exactly that. “Now off you go, we have to rehearse with costumes this time.”

  
♛

 

 

The feeling of satin against her skin as she dressed in her costume had a distinct emotion to it. It wasn’t quite princess or doll-like. The white fabric went all the way down to her legs, a legitimate greek priestess dress. Being almost as fair as snow, it contrasted with her tanned skin, and, when she looked in the mirror, putting the little pieces of golden jewelry her character wore on her ears, she felt as a goddess and wondered which greek god she would be. Probably Apolo, god of the sun, medicine and theater. She loved sunny days, lived off of Xanax and her life was a play. A rather boring one most of the time, but better than when it had drama, as a little drama would put her whole character out of function and she had to stay strong. She was the lead, unfortunately.

One last soft smile at her reflection on the dressing room’s mirror was enough of a sight of herself and Taeil opened the door to find everyone moving around, for rehearsal was about to start.

She hated how her eyes found her so easily among others, while leaving the curtains and stepping on stage. She wished they wouldn’t. If Taeil didn’t know she was there for a fact, her posture wouldn’t change and the lump in her throat would be as nonexistent as her sanity was at that moment.

However, even wishing that very very hard, the first person, or rather, thing, she saw when entering stage were her golden locks. How thoughtful of Jungwoo to think their tragedy’s hero would look more handsome with golden hair. It was like it was made to be seen, a clear spotlight in the dark. Instead of doing the usual for spotlights, this one brought Taeil to darker places.

Even with this slight distress, the actress did as she had done well for the past month. She entered the stage, greeted everyone quickly, not due to lack of politeness but an excess of shyness, and stood in her usual spot on the edge of the stage. Ten wasn’t there at the moment, probably busy rewriting something or just smoking. Jungwoo was also busy, checking everyone’s costumes to see if they fit or if she had made any mistakes. Taeil’s third and last friend in the cast and crew was Dongyoung, but they were rehearsing with stage lightning that day and Dongyoung was up there making sure it was well positioned. She was completely alone, a fair lonely maiden, a blooming flower per say, quiet in the middle of the stage, while trying not to think of the golden haired girl a few feet away. It was getting harder since her head had nothing to occupy itself with.

Another wish on her list: that she could actually be able to method act. To dissociate completely from her in real persona was an unreachable dream for Taeil. Her mind was too loud, too intense, too always-there. Maybe one of the reasons she wasn’t set to be as good at method acting as Ten put her out to be would be that she would live the life of her characters forever. Each day a new problem and new angsts in life, but at least she wouldn’t be attached to them. Her problem was only one month old and she was hoping anyone to tell her that was just an escape room and they had finally found the key.

“Nice dress.” A voice said from behind her. Taeil turned around to see exactly the reason why she was so near the edge of stage checking her out with a resting smile on her lips. She was so focused on not looking at Yuta that she hadn’t properly captured what her costume looked like, or, to better put it, how she looked in her costume.

Her fabric was also satin white, but it wasn’t down to her knees, exposing her legs, and it also had a golden rope tied in the middle. In her simple way, Yuta was the embodiment of golden. Taeil couldn’t meet her eyes. How could someone stare straight at the sun even when it shone directly at you and it was impossible to ignore? How was she supposed to answer the reason for her inability to speak? Penrose steps everywhere.

“Nice… hm… pants?” She joked, after a quick look over to Yuta. Better not to react to the compliment or else she surely wouldn’t have words.

“Thanks. Hope they are good enough for the hero of our tragedy.” The woman replied, winking as she said the word hero. Ever since she was cast she wouldn’t shut up about being a hero and bragging about it. It had become a common joke among the crew.

“You like that term a lot, don’t you?” inquired Taeil, before she could stop herself from leading the conversation further. Curiosity and attraction were her gasoline, her loneliness on stage were her wood and Yuta was the entire fire making her go further with an interaction that shouldn’t happen.

“It’s good being called a hero.” Yuta carelessly ran a hand through her hair. That was, as Taeil would put it in her mind, her fucking disaster combo. A sleeveless Yuta raising her arm with her hand that had those long, slim fingers to just mess her blonde mane even further. Fuck. That woman should walk around with a sign 18+ written across her clothes.

“Even one of a tragedy?”

Yuta shrugged, making the toga’s fabric on her shoulder move a bit, showing off her collarbone. “People like to call things tragedies just for the drama of it.”

Not being able to talk about things sucked ass. It was awful not only because it kept Taeil from maintaining meaningful relationships, but also to be true to people and herself and over all just made Taeil feel as if she came off as cold and unfriendly. Even so, there existed something worse. Only being able to talk about said feelings through innuendos and metaphors.

“You don’t consider impossible loves a tragedy?”

These things don’t write themselves out, Taeil was actually a genius for making things this much worse than it should be. As Ten would put before rehearsal, “Free up the cheaper seats! Here comes greek tragedy.”

It was impossible to keep looking for ground to her sight when Yuta stared at her so intensely. She also felt her slow and steady proximity, burning from a touch she didn’t feel. Finally looking up and locking gazes with her romantic pairing, thrills went through her body, as she heard her lips, without any sign of a smile, whisper in her hoarse voice: “How can love ever be a tragedy?”

Fucking Nakamoto Yuta with those kissable lips that I can’t stop starring at, especially when she says things like this, in this tone, so close to me and looking at me with those big mesmerizing eyes. That was what Taeil wanted to yell while laughing hysterically. What took place, was very different.

“In our tragedy they both die.” She replied, composedly.

“In their tragedy they both die after a happy night together. In our tragedy, we are flavoring our suffering.”

Having her accused of method acting yet again and having their incident mentioned at the same phrasing formulation was an unexpected low blow and just the way Taeil would put it: filled with innuendos but a direct message for those who would see. Most of the time, Taeil never knew what people meant or were saying. She always understood Yuta though. Maybe that was what made their attraction so lethal.

Getting a taste of her own medicine was no good. The only approved medication on her system was the one she used to control her anxiety disorder and it would very much stay that way.

“I thought it was dramatic to call such things tragedies.” She bit back, looking at Yuta carefully.

Yuta shrugged again, making more of her collarbone show. There was no way she didn’t notice Taeil’s eyes lingering over her skin. “Perhaps I’m a bit dramatic myself.”

Before Taeil had the chance to retort, Johanna screamed at the company. “So, let’s get this thing started!”

The actress blinked back to reality. They were on the edge of the stage. The whole cast and crew were probably watching their little spectacle, perceiving every touch and whispering about what they were whispering about. Taeil wanted none of that. She didn’t want anyone’s eyes on her while she wasn’t acting. Still, she held on and Yuta was gone as a hurricane goes, having done their damage and vanishing. The only way Taeil could prove Yuta had certainly been there was that the damage was there, in the gazes of her co-workers and on the growing lump in her throat.

  
  
♛

 

 

“Hm. Something lacks in this scene. Heroe can’t just accept Leander in her tower and the lights go out. That was what the play was leading to. We need something more.” Taeil had to stop on sight. Johanna had asked her friend, infamously famous young genius who went by the pen name Haechan, to take a look at the play. It was one of the reasons they were rehearsing in costumes. A third eye was of the utmost importance so near the opening night and Haechan was very close to the director and wouldn’t mind giving a look at the play, especially if it was for her opinion to be heard.

“What do you mean? I think it’s going fine.” Ten was sitting next to Johanna, in the audience. Taeil almost couldn’t hold a smile thinking how defensive Ten got over her scripts. Constructive criticism surely wasn’t one of her best character traits.

“No, we need a kiss.”

Four letters. Taeil’s nightmare. Funny how kiss and Yuta had the same number of letters.

The company was in silence. No one would suggest anything. Kisses were never on the table. Not when they had soon found out Yuta and Taeil never stood in a room alone together, even though they shared a dressing room, or when they noticed how mute they were in each other’s presence. Even so, they wouldn’t deny the brightest and youngest producer her request.

“B-but there weren’t any kisses in old tragedies.” Taeil finally expressed her opinion. Not exactly her opinion. She was not one of saying what was on her mind. Too much trouble to transliterate what was written in old greek to actual modern words.

“Your company is made of women rewriting and reenacting plays that were done by dudes. I think you can add a kiss.” Haechan commented, defiantly. “Besides, this isn’t even a proper greek tragedy, it’s a modern writing.” Taeil was going to interrupt, but the producer continued. “The story may be old greek but Ten’s writing is completely original and, even though it’s a tragedy, we all know it’s more about the characters than the actions taking place.”

The two had met previously. Haechan wanted Taeil for her play, a new musical that she promised would take the heart out of Broadway. The actress didn’t do musicals and kindly informed so. Again, Haechan was insistent. Never receiving a no in her career had made her spoiled and rightfully so. She had even showed how the part was almost hand written for Taeil. There was a line spoken to said-character ‘Your skin. I just want to dip you in honey’ and when reading the script along with Ten, her friend pointed out a small drawn heart next to it. Ever since, Taeil was rather unsure where she stood with the producer.

Johanna took a quick look at Ten, who took a quick look at Taeil, who was too lost in her own head to take a quick look at anyone, so the playwright merely nodded. Just like that, the fate of the romantic pairing’s lips were sealed.

“Is it alright with you, Yuta?” The director inquired. Yuta, who was on the other side of stage, stepped forward. Taeil’s eyes were instantly glued on her. The way she stood elegantly showing off those collarbones could piss any sane human. In the end she simply shrugged, a common Yuta action.

“If it’s alright with Taeil.”

She shouldn’t be allowed to say her name. To Yuta, Taeil should only ever be referenced as Heroe, Aphrodite’s priestess, and nothing more. It should be a crime to hear Yuta pronounce her name.

The spotlight was at the actress yet again when no rehearsal was taking place. This play would either drive Taeil straight into an abyss or madness. She should have challenged herself and taken the damn musical role. She was also challenged in her current work but it was mostly emotionally challenging.

All eyes on her, she could do nothing but comply, feeling Yuta’s burning gaze on her skin. “If the director says so.”

  
♛

 

 

After rehearsal was wrapped up and Haechan expressed her congratulations to the production with the sly remark she could see the leads in a musical someday, Taeil had ran up to her dressing room as quickly as she could. There was a joint silent agreement between Yuta and herself that whoever got there first, could get changed without any interruption and this time, she wanted said person to be her as she couldn’t bare to stay in that theater for another minute, every second weighting on her headache and stress.

While changing, she saw her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t look like a greek goddess any longer. It was fascinating how a pose or expression could completely change someone’s image. That was what acting was all about. At that moment, she could be wearing a beautiful white dress and golden ornaments, but she felt like a girl trapped in a costume. Heroe was supposed to be her dream role and it was rapidly swirling into something completely different.

She changed herself quickly, not being able to appreciate the touch of satin anymore. Her usual jeans and blue sweater would do. She gathered her things and, without another look to the dressing room mirror, went out. Everyone was changing, ready to get home and rest, so no one paid any attention with the actress making her way to the backstage door. There was someone waiting for her there. Someone she chose to ignore, as she did with most of her life problems, going straight to the door and into the windy streets of October.

“Taeilie, Taeilie, wait.” Ten followed her friend, matching her quick steps. She didn’t have a jacket for some reason. She had nothing on her to be honest, just a cigar in her hands. Maybe the lack of weight she carried, made it possible for her to stand in front of the actress so quickly, stopping her from walking any farther.

She didn’t have to speak or ask. Taeil knew what she wanted to discuss. It wasn’t a request. It sucked Ten was bringing up the part of her she wanted to hide, right in the middle of those cold windy streets, but she finally broke down.

“I can’t kiss her again, Ten. I kissed her one night and look what it did to me. I can’t kiss her again.”

Taeil started shaking. Not just her arms and legs, but her head and she wouldn’t be able to maintain herself up if it weren’t for the cold bricks of the theater she dreaded so much. Taeil leaned on the walls, trying to normalize her breathing pace. Speaking the truth was much harder than she had thought.

Her vision was so blurry and dizzy, she didn’t notice Ten standing next to her. Her friend started to slowly caress her hair. “It’s just a kiss, Ilie.”

It had always been just a kiss. A mere exchange of saliva, who cares? It was how it all started. The actress had only mere flashes of that night, the night which Ten finally got Taeil to go out with other people from the business, a month before. They were smashing mics in karaoke bars, Yuta had showed up late with half her makeup on from her last presentation in her previous production. They had never met each other before that, but Taeil had heard about the starlight Nakamoto, coming straight from Japan to rock their theaters. Growing up between the two countries, Taeil was shocked to see she had no accent at all. She was even more shocked at the girl’s beauty and perhaps it was the alcohol, or being left alone as Ten made out with Johanna, but Yuta caught her staring at her. She moved next to her and asked to sing a song with Taeil in her usual hoarse voice, murmuring on Taeil’s ear as if asking to runaway with her. Taeil couldn’t say no. They ended up singing a song by some alternative English band they soon found they loved and after that, Yuta just took her hand for them to get some air. Said air was to be found in each other’s lungs, as they wouldn’t stop kissing passionately. Yuta’s hands on Taeil’s hips and back, holding her tightly against herself and Taeil’s hands on her then apricot hair. There were some more touches here and there but soon the night had finished and Ten safely took Taeil from Yuta’s arms, with the promise she would make Taeil call her the next day. Yuta had instead received a much different call the next day. A job offer.

Those flashes, touches and brushes of lips couldn’t scape Taeil’s head. She didn’t have a way out of it. “A kiss that I’ve been dreaming of for the past few months, from lips I can’t stop staring at every time she talks to me.” She breathed out, trying to blurt as many words as she could while her lump still allowed her. “And the worst is, every time she talks to me I want it more.”

Tired of looking down to the asphalt of the street, she raised her head, trying to find some answers in her friend. Ten was her safe harbor. She had protected her when no one else would. She would text Taeil when Taeil was ignoring everybody’s texts and call her to tell her it’s alright not to be answering texts but she needed to be sure her friend was alright. She had to know the answer to the dead end Taeil found herself in. If there was anyone in the world who knew that, it was her.

“You should talk to her.”

Talk to her! Talk to her! As if it were that simple! How could talking make anything better if Taeil left every conversation she had with Yuta more confused and lost in herself? How could it be so easy when every time Taeil had something set in mind another thing completely different would leave her lips?

“We’ve only discussed it once after it happened and we agreed we wouldn’t go on. She would probably want a fling and I’m always way more intense than that and it would just ruin this entire production.” Taeil whined, avoiding her friend’s gaze and looking anywhere but there. Ten held her hand. Taeil hadn’t noticed but she had been scratching her chest nervously. The lack of air in her brain made her slow to realize her own nervous reactions. She kissed her hand, looking straight into her friend’s eyes.

“Things have changed. Talk to her.”

Taeil just nodded numbly and let her friend take her home for a nice cup of tea.

  
♛

 

 

Ten would often talk about the importance of first lines in her writing rants. How she made sure the first line of any of her scripts or books was never something dumb as a greeting or name calling. She also claimed that she took this philosophy to her own life so whenever she had to say something important with someone, she wouldn’t start with something simple as a name.

Taeil, on the other hand, had a problem voicing a simple ‘hello’ and she wouldn’t dare to try anything that had more than two syllables. Luckily, the name she had to speak out also had two syllables.

“Yuta?” She managed to say, opening the door of their dressing room. Yuta was sitting in the chair in front of their makeup mirror, looking at Taeil through the reflection. Her eyes were open wide, almost as if startled. The two had never been in that room together. That would make the place a good safe haven for Taeil if she ever dared to spend more time than necessary, but she was always afraid Yuta would need the room and she didn’t want to cross paths with her when that could be avoided. At that moment, she opened the door knowing she was inside. Perhaps Yuta didn’t know that yet.

“Yes?” The other actress asked, quickly getting up from the chair and picking her leather jacket, avoiding Taeil’s eyes. Taeil entered the dressing room and closed the door behind her. Yuta turned to look at her, confused to the sound.

“Hm. About this new addition to our scene.” She couldn’t bring into existence the four letter word that was the title of her nightmares. They both knew what they were talking about. Taeil avoided Yuta’s gaze, staring at her feet instead. “I think we better- we better-“

She couldn’t say it. Nothing would come out. Mere seconds felt like hours. Yuta’s eyes were still on her and words didn’t make sense. The only thing she felt stronger than ever was that known lump in her throat. Usually Taeil’s lump would be like an annoying family member, it was there in family parties but could be generally ignored as if she was born with it. There were other times, almost rare, such as these, in which the lump stretched, stretched and stretched until it was impossible for any word or air to leave her lungs. Even if she had a whole speech prepared, it would be utterly impossible to voice it. Her bitten nails scratched her arm nervously, trying to figure out how to get a word out, any word.

“Do you want to rehearse it?” Yuta asked, one eyebrow raised slightly.

Taeil frowned, confused to what that meant.“I-I-“

Yuta giggled, never taking her eyes off Taeil. “Just messing with you.”

The soft sound of her chuckle, her reassuring gaze and presence, it all added up to Taeil being finally able to utter words again. “O-Okay.” Breathe in. Breathe out. “I’m worried, I just don’t want things to get confusing.”

Yuta’s smile suddenly become more cynical, as she shrugged. “We are actresses above all else according to you.”

“We are people above all else.”

“That’s according to me.”

Yuta had a cheetah tongue. Taeil had read the metaphor once in one of Haechan’s plays. She would lick you softly but it would hurt you either way.

“Don’t act like you know me.”

You’d think theater actresses would have it more easy compared to big movie stars but that’s a big no. Sometimes Taeil even considered going for a movie career if it wasn’t so demanding in regards of looks. The gossip though? It was worse. She wasn’t surrounded by tabloids and people whispering about her on the street. However, in her daily life, the people she worked with or had worked with previously would share their knowings of her habits and character, to the point some of them got the illusion they knew who she was. If even Taeil couldn’t tell who she was, why would another theater actress know?

Yuta didn’t fire back. Instead, she approached the dressing room’s door, where Taeil stood still. Her gaze was set on Taeil and only her. “It’s just an act. I’d like to know you more.”

All the red lights in Taeil’s head started to burst hysterically. Not only had Yuta approached her dangerously to the point where Taeil could feel her warm body heat, but also the tone of Yuta’s words shared her intent of discussion was much different than Taeil’s.

“I better leave.” The actress said, touching the handle but still looking at Yuta.

“You’re good at that.” Bitter words coming from sweet lips stopped Taeil from touching the handle. It was wrong to stay, but surely worse to leave.

“You were good at not being so passive aggressive. What changed all of a sudden?” With a little more ferocity, Taeil spoke. Yuta raised her eyebrows. Taeil couldn’t say what amused her the most, her staying or the question.

“What made you want to talk all of the sudden? We’ve been rehearsing together for almost a month and nothing.”

Taeil’s lips started to tremble. That was the whole reason why she was in the dressing room alone with Yuta, but it still pained to say her confession out loud. The questions and discussions that would follow it were impossible to imagine and she wanted none of it.

“This kiss scares me.” She finally confessed. Yuta nodded. She probably already knew that.

“In a good or bad way?” Now that was something Taeil didn’t have the answer to. She craved for the kiss but never wanted to avoid something so much in her whole life. She knew if she kissed the lips she was staring deeply right at that moment, they would be her ruin. Simply because even if she could understand everything Yuta meant when talking to her, she couldn’t understand herself when talking to Yuta. She couldn’t trace a pattern of behavior or comprehensive thought and she was an actor. She made a living out of method and rules. The best actors weren’t the suchs who would just yell “live and love”, do drugs and go away with it. They were surprisingly by the book people who only got to be awarded due to hard word and technique. They would know what to say and the right time to say it. When she was with Yuta, she didn’t know what to say until she had just said it.

“Both.”

The word was muttered out, thrown out of her body and she felt pain with the admittance. Yuta, on the other hand just nodded and turned around, walking back to the mirror and leaning over the makeup table in front of it. “I hate this part.” She sighed and looked at Taeil through the mirror reflection once again.

“What?” Taeil was lost. Never had she wanted Yuta so close to her as she wanted at that moment. She needed something to lean on and the poor dressing room door wasn’t doing the work alone.

Yuta, as if hearing her silent call, got up and spoke while walking over to her again. “Being close to you and not being able to touch you was painful enough. Being close to you and being able to touch you but having restraints? I love it but it’s the worst part I have ever gotten.” Yuta rose her hand, almost daring to touch Taeil’s cheek but chose not to. Taeil wanted her touch so bad. She could feel the thrills that would cause her from the mere thought of it. But she also knew what was best. She should just nod and let that issue go. Unfortunately, she could never follow the script when the matter was Yuta.

“You make my head loose when you say those things.”

Yuta’s half smile got back to her lips as she leaned over Taeil. She pinned her up against the door and whispered to her ear: “Guess I’ll just keep saying them then.”

“Yuta…” Taeil couldn’t say if it was a whine, a moan or even a warning. She couldn’t say if she wanted Yuta closer or farther or just to stay exactly where she was. She couldn’t say anything more than her name.

Yuta looked down at Taeil, gently caressing her face with her fingers. Taeil had her eyes up, waiting for her next move, breathing rapidly. Suddenly, her soft touches came to a halt and Yuta took a step back. “I’m sorry, ever since I’ve known I’ll finally kiss you again after that night my head’s been flipping.”

Yuta stepping back brought Taeil back to the little senses she still had. “We can’t…”

“Why not?” That time it was Yuta who whined. It reminded Taeil she should be the responsible one. She was the oldest and had the most solid career of them both after all.

“We would be writing our own tragedy. Working and being together and…” Before she could finish her trail of thought, she was interrupted.

“And what?” The blonde actress questioned, getting closer to Taeil again, though more softly this time around. “You’d rather me come to your tower court you every night to eternity than have a single night of knowing what this would be like.”

When pronouncing the word ‘this’, Yuta bit her own bottom lip, licking them right after. Taeil licked her own lips right after, a reflection move probably. It was nothing more. “I don’t even want the courting part.”

Yuta saw right through her lie, chuckling as she messed with Taeil’s brown locks. “Then I really do know you and you know nothing of yourself.”

“We made out once, how can this be so complicated!” Taeil shouted angrily, finally letting herself out of control in that conversation for once. It was so frustrating to see Ten making out with dozens of different girls, Jungwoo with guys, Dongyoung with guys and girls and whatever more and still Taeil had to go out one time outside of her circle of friends to feel entrapped in such dramatic series of events that kept leading her and Yuta to be near each other. It was frustrating enough that her one night make out turned out to be her next romantic pairing, but that their attraction wasn’t put to an end at that night was simply infuriating.

The other actress didn’t look so mad. Her smile was a mix between ironic and nostalgic. Perhaps for what they had in one night or for what they could have been. “In tragedies the hero also falls quickly for his maiden. It’s like taking a leap.” She whispered, touching their foreheads together.

For one moment, one second as it may, Taeil closed her eyes. She just drifted off and let herself feel Yuta’s breath on her nose and mouth, her daring touch lingering her waist, her chest touching hers. She dared to feel Yuta, not by what she said, lines of a written play doomed to fail, but by her actions, written between parentheses but in caps, as her name was. “Oh darling, you’re just the best…” Taeil murmured, opening her eyes.

“I like it when you call me darling…” Yuta murmured, before taking her head back and leaning lower in Taeil’s direction.

Had she ever called Yuta darling before? She didn’t remember much of that night. After that, it was impossible for it to have happened. Then, Taeil remembered. Heroe called Leander darling throughout the play. The play. She saw Yuta getting closer, she wanted to lean in. Yuta was a church. Welcoming. Begging for you come pray in it’s holy presence. Taeil had to close that door and remind herself that church was built in satanic ground: no matter how much she praid, everything would go to hell.

Taeil quickly looked for the handle, as Yuta approached. “We have to rehearse.” She announced, opening the handle, and stumbling her way out of the dressing room, alive.

She wanted to run. All her instincts told her to. Stay away from the pretty blonde haired demon. Don’t see her reaction from you running from her. Don’t humanize It. She couldn’t. She was bound to look at Yuta, read every line in her face, probably not the best, but certainly one of the most beautiful books she would ever get the chance to read.

She had a smile on her face. Taeil had learned Yuta could smile in whichever situation. It was her escape plan. She couldn’t perceive anything other than bitterness, while Yuta pronounced the ugly truth: “Acting first, living second, those are the rules of Moon Taeil.” And so closed the door for the dressing room.

End scene.

  
♛

 

 

“Aren’t you going to ask to come again, my darling?” She shouted from her tower. It wasn’t that much higher than where the stage stood, but she was more than thankful for having some distance from Yuta for most of the play. The small tower had heras all around it, with beautiful fake peonies. Jae could take her time working on it, but her end project was always flawless regarding scenery.

“Oh dear, Heroe, I wouldn’t dare. I have settled with coming here to tell you stories and talk about life. Just a scent of your presence brings me much joy.” Yuta yelled back from her spot in the “beach” as per say. The fake rocks, sea and sand would give that impression. It was a fairly nice beach, but Jaehyun had given all her work to the sky. She had said it was on purpose. The sky was where Heroe stood in Leander’s eyes, as someone closed in her tower and an Aphrodite priestess. That being said, the stage was surrounded by little balls of lights near the roof and Taeil felt as some magic being among comets and meteors.

“Have you given up in your beliefs that Aphrodite would be pleased with our union?” Taeil questioned, in an innocent tone. Heroe was a very easy part to play, if she was being honest. Be innocent and suffer, that was her character in a summary. Perhaps she didn’t need to do method acting to reach that.

Hamlet had given her the praise, but not the popularity among public. Not many people were looking for the play that was on display since 1607. That was exactly what this play had: buzz. And Yuta. Truly remarkable how among the theater scene Taeil was the most looked for, but the public surely loved Yuta, especially after her lovely interpretation of Cosette in Les Miserables. Yes, she could also do musicals.

“That I have not, she is the goddess of love after all. But I do have to expect you to be pleased with our union as well.”

“So, you’ve given up on me.” Taeil remarked, having to hold the irony towards the remark. She had to hold it together all throughout her acting if she was being honest. Heroe was an easy part to play along, but the Taeil inside was banging too loudly at the door from time to time.

“I will never give up on you. I’ll come here every night, but wish for nothing more, and when you so will, I will come upstairs.” Yuta performed her lines looking at Taeil. No look at the audience. No long blink. Just, you know, your common big statement of never giving up even if receiving constant denials to the person she was actually receiving constant denials from. You know, your normal theater drama. Taeil wanted to throw up when she thought of it rationally.

All eyes were on her. Yuta awaited her response. In fact, Yuta waited her line. It was Leander who waited for Heroe’s response.

“For your persistence, I’ll go meet you at the beach.” Taeil announced, with an easy smile. Her romantic pairing’s lack of insistence had made it all wash away. She wished it could have been the same with Yuta. She was the least insistent, the most respectful. Only ever reaching out when Taeil needed or requested.

“For only my persistence? Is that the only quality you can think of?”

Taeil smiled charmingly, leaning over the window, hand brushing through Yuta’s golden locks. “My darling, if I were to name all your qualities, we would waste our night.”

“Then come here and let’s enjoy our evening together.” Yuta took her hand from her head and held it. Taeil used it to lead her down on the staircase that swirled around the small tower.

“My darling.” She whispered when they were finally met face to face together. Yuta’s breathing seemed normal. The taller girl had eyes neither for Taeil’s or the audience, only looking at her pairing’s lips. She leaned over Taeil, but not blocking her from the audience. This was still a very watched show. “I hope we can share many more nights together.”

Her lips. Getting closer. Alarmingly closer. They are going to do that. Touch each other. Heroe and Leander’s lips. Taeil and Yuta’s lips. Yuta’s lips.

Can you think of four words with four letters that mean disaster? Yuta, lips, kiss and play.

She felt the air leaving her lungs and turned the other cheek. From the audience, the director screamed: “Taeil?! What was that?!”

Just then, Taeil completely detached herself from Yuta, missing the woman’s warm touch in an instant. The actress looked at her pairing, but didn’t have the time to properly analyze her. Her director was screaming at her and the lights Dongyoung had on could turn anyone blind.

“I’m sick, I don’t want Yuta to get sick too.” Taeil yelled back, putting a hand over her eyes to get a better look at her director. Johanna sat alone in the middle of the seats, looking disappointed. Taeil heard a chuckle, coming from her right. Obviously Yuta could see through her lie. It didn’t take being her to know. Everyone in the crew knew. They had started whispering around. Taeil had several conversations with Ten about it. She was the most rationally ready ever.

Still. Every time Yuta approached her, she couldn’t let go. Taeil couldn’t kiss her like that.

“The play is tomorrow and you two haven’t rehearsed this.” Johanna reminded, massaging her forehead. She had been doing that ever since Haechan had come to visit. Taeil knew the young producer would bring nothing but trouble.

“But do we really have to? In lots of movies the couple only kiss once.” The actress was being bold. To even begin comparing those two very distinct forms of art to get her way out of that scene, it would make any playwright baffle. She had to postpone this though. The risks of she needing something stronger than Xanax at that moment were very much real.

Johanna sighed. Taeil felt her colleague giving up. “Fine, fine! Hope you aren’t sick come tomorrow.”

Letting her own director down was one of the things Taeil hated the most. The director was supposed to lead her through the way, she didn’t have to fight it, even if they could discuss things. Johanna had just given up arguing with Taeil. She threw the dice to the odds. Who knew if the two were going to kiss come the next day? Insisting wouldn’t change a thing. Taeil certainly needed something stronger than Xanax at that moment. She looked at her right, to see how Yuta had taken it. She wasn’t there anymore, Taeil had embarked in a monologue without knowing.

  
♛

 

 

Taeil couldn’t be sure what had startled her first, the dressing room’s door being open rudely or the line of the person who busted it open.

“You’ve been very sly getting your way out of kissing me.”

She was at least fortunate the blonde hadn’t caught her only in her underwear or else she would probably be covering herself and running away from her the fastest she could. She stared at her from the mirror, both of them still on their costumes. Yuta almost never left her emotions on display, always hiding behind a smile or laughs. This time, she looked serious, staring Taeil back on the mirror with no shame. “It’s not-“

“Taeil. Don’t lie to me.” Yuta interrupted loudly, before Taeil could say anything. Something was odd. The blonde approached where Taeil was slowly, before asking in a kinder tone of voice. “What is so powerful about it?”

It was ironic that Yuta asked what was so powerful about it when she couldn’t even pronounce its name. It was a four letter word for cursed and they would have to perform it every night for the past months.

Yuta was standing directly behind her. Taeil could feel her breath on her neck, warming and sending chills all over her body. Her touch was surrounding her like a ghost. If she tripped on her feet, she would land on her hero’s chest. She had to stand still for her own sake.

“I don’t know and I don’t want to know.” Taeil declared, hoping to put an end to this discussion. Yuta’s menacing aura was starting to scare her. For the first time, even when displaying all of her feelings, Yuta was unreadable.

Finally, the blonde actress leaned over, positioning one hand at Taeil’s waist and the other on her shoulder. The brunette shivered at the warm touch, but Yuta didn’t seem to notice, as she whispered in her ear, staring at Taeil’s eyes through the mirror. “That’s where lays the difference. You would never try the new.”

Staring at them both through the mirror, Taeil could read that scene perfectly. Yuta was the devil murmuring sweet nothings and luring Taeil to her own doom. They weren’t even that different in size, but Yuta looked enormous and elegant next to the smaller innocent Taeil. She had to fight it.

“I always embark on new experiences.” She shot back daringly, but not enough to break their gaze. Yuta’s hand started playing on her shoulder, nearing her chest area, making her heart beat faster.

“Regards to acting, yes. The rest, not so much.” She remarked, a wicked smile on her lips. Yuta couldn’t fight it, her smiles showed naturally, and along with them, barriers. Taeil couldn’t have her touching her chest, breathing on her neck, holding her waist. It was too much, Yuta was slowly intoxicating her and she could do nothing but watch it at the dressing room mirror, not giving in but also not going away. Taeil had to make a choice, she couldn’t lose. She detached herself from Yuta’s arms, and went towards the dressing room door, but the blonde was quicker, holding her left arm. “Don’t go, Taeil.” Time stopped. It was a plead. Taeil looked back at Yuta’s eyes, with no mirror distorting them. She could blame Yuta for holding her, but she held Taeil weakly, almost as if bidding her goodbye already. She wasn’t making her stay, at least not with physical strength.

“It’s pathetic.” Taeil blurted out.

Yuta approached her, visibly happy she stayed and wanting to keep her longer. “What is?”

“I always stay when you ask me to. Even when I shouldn’t. Even when you don’t ask.” She murmured, as Yuta embraced in her arms. She wanted to punch her shoulder and instead she was resting her head on it. The blonde’s smell was fantastic, taken from another world. Yuta despised perfumes, it was a known fact, so when Taeil breathed deeply on her clothes, she knew she was smelling Yuta and that it had become her favorite fragrance.

“It’s the only thing I ever ask of you that you comply.” Taeil felt her hair being slowly caressed. She would never confess but she loved when people caressed her hair. It was something so intimate and sweet. Only Ten would ever do that to her.

“What you truly ask is too much and too little at the same time.” Taeil muffled against Yuta’s shirt. The actress was in a limbo. Her words said something but her actions completely contradicted herself. She couldn’t stand away from Yuta physically, she needed to be closer, breath her smell, feel her skin, listen to her voice. There was only one thing she couldn’t do and it was scheduled to happen on stage the next day.

Yuta took her hands and held them together. She distances herself from Taeil, to look at her one more time. “If you had the chance of asking me something what would it be?”

“I can’t.” Taeil mumbled, looking down. Yuta’s face too close to her, it was better when she had her head buried in her neck, that way her lips were out of sight.

“Why not?”

Taeil shook her head, still avoiding any eye contact. “We work together, Nayu. We have an opening night tomorrow. We can’t-“

Yuta held her hands more tightly, Taeil couldn’t keep her eyes from looking right at her. She looked on the verge of desperation and lost. “Be happy? Enjoy each other? See where this goes?”

“What if everything goes wrong?” Taeil shot back, taking her hands away, tired of Yuta’s attacks.

“That would be such a tragedy.” The response had lots of irony to it, but perhaps it would be the truest sentence ever spoken between them. For Yuta, it would be a mere tragedy. She didn’t know what happened to Taeil after relationships, how she gave all of herself to the and was broken when they, one after the other, destroyed her expectations on love. The cycle would begin again in which she wouldn’t be able to be professional, it would make it harder for her findings jobs, until she was healed again and hailed back to the most wanted actresses. It wasn’t a cycle. It was a never ending Penrose step and Taeil kept falling every time. Yuta wouldn’t be different. She would discard her, just like the others have. She was just another staircase.

Taeil finally weakened. She felt tears coming to her eyes and could do nothing to stop them. “Please, don’t tell me all of this to make me your fling.”

There was silence after she spoke. Yuta looked surprised. Taeil had started leaning on the table. Next to Yuta she was either leaning on the blonde actress or other furniture, but she could never trust her feet. Yuta moved closer to her, taking a strain of hair from her face. “That’s your fear?”

The ugly truth climbed out from her throat, impossible to stop at that moment. “I like you more than you like me.”

She knew it for sure. Her reactions towards Yuta were much more intense than the other way around. What Yuta’s touch did to her was indescribable, she wouldn’t be able to put into words how those thin long hands had stuck in her head for days, how she longed to breathe her scent, how she couldn’t talk to Yuta without her eyes accidentally traveling to her lips. It was pathetic, they had only made out once. Nonetheless, there she was, completely addicted to Nakamoto Yuta.

“I differ.” Yuta declared, approaching Taeil. “Let’s kiss to check this theory?”

The actress chuckled between tears. “You’re the most wicked, Nayu.” She murmured, not being able to keep her eyes from the blonde as she took another falling strain from her face.

“But I thought I was the best.” Her remark brought another chuckle from Taeil. Always playing with words and dialogue, they would never rest like this. It also warmed Taeil’s heart Yuta remembered those words, not only said in their last argument a few days ago, but in that weirdly warm night of September, outside of a bar, while Yuta marked her neck and pinned her against the wall.

This still wasn’t it. It wasn’t enough. She couldn’t go through that all over again for someone who remembered exchanged real life dialogue and charmed her in the dressing room. It didn’t make sense for Taeil to go for it. “Why so keen on it now? What changed these days?”

Yuta didn’t seem tired of Taeil’s endless questions and denials. She just continuously caressed her hair with a serious, but endearing expression. “I just don’t want our first sober kiss to be in front of an audience. I want it to be our own private spectacle. It’s too important for them to see.” She looked directly at Taeil’s almond eyes, hopeful. Her big round eyes shone and had the heat of a thousand stage lights. “Will you allow me to show this is possible, Taeil?”

Taeil’s lips started to tremble. Yuta’s reasoning has struck her in her heart. “And after?” She managed to ask.

Yuta seemed to have understood she had found something. Perhaps a map that would lead her straight to gold. She had it and her reward her coming. A smile of hope graced her lips. “The script is on the works. But I promise you something grand.”

The older actress’ heart warmed at the sound of that. Something grand. Perhaps Yuta wasn’t looking for a one night stand. She wouldn’t risk it all for that. Maybe Taeil and Yuta were so dangerous because they worked out so well. She was afraid she was reading into Yuta only what she wanted to see. The blonde was too close to her and she was in too deep. Her big eyes mere centimeters, her breath turning into Taeil’s breath.

“So, the actions will lead the scene?”

“Don’t trap me in your riddles. I am too influenced by romances to let actions be the main course.”

Taeil smiled. There was no other way around it that didn’t directly lead to Yuta. She read her perfectly and knew what she wanted to hear. How could she ever resist someone who would detect her metaphors in seconds and reply with even more intriguing questions?

“This will be for our eyes only?” She murmured, leaning closer to Yuta. The blonde nodded her head, but her answer didn’t matter. Taeil’s lips crashed onto Yuta’s softly, but were met with the response of lightning and power of Zeus. The blonde’s lips were rougher, but in a contained way, making Taeil want more. Yuta pinned her up on the makeup table, against the mirror and slowly backed from her lips.

Yuta starred at Taeil intently. Her gaze went from her hair, to her nose, to her lips. Taeil could only breath, waiting for her to approach. She also stared at Yuta, analyzing her blonde hair, her perfect nose, killing eyes. In the end, she just wanted Yuta to come back to where her lips were. She did, eventually. Their lips met again, wilder this time.

Yuta hit like ecstasy. Came in and banged the senses out of Taeil. What they were doing might have been wrong, but it was worse to leave. Better act along to an unwritten play, might be a comedy or tragedy, the ending does not matter as long as the characters get what they want.

**Author's Note:**

> i write nct social media aus and taeil centric fics 
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/thegreatmoon94)   
>  [cc](https://curiouscat.me/thegreatmoon94)   
>  [carrd](https://gardenofwords.carrd.co/)
> 
>    
> xx  
> sol


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